The Girl Who Escaped
by notsocreativedog
Summary: Iris discovers a world beyond her imaginations with twists and turns, only to find she isn't sharing the world being Iris.
1. 1 IRIS HEMMINGS

**1\. IRIS HEMMINGS**

"_Mommy! She did that!" she screamed, her eyes expressing her utmost fear. "Don't be stupid, honey, how could she do that?" her mother asked carefully. She started sobbing silently, "But, I teased her and she became angry and attacked me!" her sobs grew louder. The mother looked at the other girl with weird suspicion. Her head was down, silent like midnight. _

"_Let's go, honey." She whispered, holding her child closely._

_Whispers around her, all hush tones, avoiding her gaze thoroughly._

"_How did she do it?"_

"_The table just lifted off itself"_

"_Was it wind?"_

"_Don't be stupid! She was so angry; she must have lifted it like hell!" _

_That was so unreal._

_Even to her. _

"Would you like ketchup with it?" Morgan asked, wrapping the omelette and placing it neatly onto the plate.

Iris looked up from the riddle book, "Yes please." Morgan gave a small smile and dressed the omelette with a smiley. She placed the plate on the kitchen table, "Here you go." She gave her small look, and let out the small 'thank you'. The yellow hue mingled with white and decorated with the red gave her a small happiness, reminding her of the happy vacation that would be gone within no time.

After few seconds of silence, Morgan cleared her throat, "Iris, did you move the box in the attic into your room?" Chewing her omelette, she looked up. Things happened. Again. "I didn't." she replied indifferently. Morgan gave a small sigh, "Do you know how it moved into your room?" Iris was silent, she couldn't tell her what happened. _What she thought._ "I don't know." She swallowed another piece.

"Please tell the truth, hon." Morgan changed her tone of pleading to strict commanding voice.

"Someone else must have moved it." She said, even if she was used enough to realize that she was somehow responsible. "There's no one except you and me." She bit her lip, her throat suffocated to give an answer.

"Iris Hemmings, I'm asking how the box moved on its own?" Morgan raised her voice, thinking it of no use. After all, she had seen like this so many times. Iris toys' dragging itself to her, then when she would turn back and find it beside her, she would gleefully screech, hold it up, and look at her mother, who would've watched the whole episode, too shocked to say anything, "Thanks mama!" She had also found her white dress transform into a beautiful, shimmering silver frock which she had wanted since the previous day, but she had always told her a 'next time'.

"I don't know! Why should I tell you?! You aren't my mother anyway! I was adopted! But even you didn't know! You also hate me because I'm a freak!" her yell filled with sobs, and hiccups. Morgan looked her eyes wide open.

"I just wanted to know when and where I was born! And I was thinking about at night, then the box was there next morning. I thought you had kept it for me! And I saw it... I was adopted, found near a meadow, your dad's farmland!" she had warm tears streaming, more threatening to come out.

"Honey..." she was speechless, unable to defend herself.

_Unable to comfort her_.

She stormed upstairs, leaving her omelette almost finished but some white still left. "Iris! Come back!" she followed her to her room, but stopped, unable to come up with a proper explanation. What would she say? She had her crying, with her mother dead beside her, her mother, so desperately holding onto her, even though her breath was gone. She was immediately taken to the hospital where the doctor assured the baby safe but, the mother dead, without any internal injuries, bruises, problems. Her heart had just stopped beating.

She slowly opened the door, which creaked, heard her sobbing, mumbling desperately, "I'm not weird. I didn't do anything. I didn't do anything. I just wanted to know."

All weird things happen when she's curious.

_When she wants sincerely._

Morgan entered her room slowly, each step making a decision whether to face her or not. 'What should I say? The truth?' she thought, 'I don't know how her mother died, or who her father is.'

"Did my dad hate me?" she whispered, tears continuing to flow. She looked at Morgan, who was putting a great effort to hide her astonishment. "I can hear you, you don't have to speak loud. I can also hear what my classmates think of me. They think I'm a witch. An evil witch." she hiccupped. Morgan had always heard her sobbing after she came from school, but she couldn't find a proper reason to convince her. Even the teachers complained about supernatural phenomena around her. A pencil flying to her, the one she wanted, table falling, an unnatural quake in school building when she's laughed and teased by the whole class.

"I understand your concern Ms. Hemmings, but I think you should visit a psychiatrist as soon as possible, or even try hospital for the differently abled. She couldn't. She just couldn't.

_She was terrified of the consequences._

These thoughts replayed in her mind, when she gazed back at those pure brown eyes.

"I don't know, Iris." Was all she could reply. She turned around, ready to leave the room. She should give a serious thought of visiting a psychiatrist.

"I'm not crazy." She heard her mumble quietly. She finally closed the door and felt the need to go out to gasp a huge amount of air.

Another day of summer had come to an end. The sun had become yellowish red, the hue Iris had on today's breakfast. She had been on her bed the whole day, after arguing with her mom, no_, Morgan_. She was so excited for this day, because she would know how happy Morgan would've been to see her. Or her dad, if he was ever there to see her. Her expectations had crumbled, when she found the contents of the box. Documents of adoption, papers of her mother's death and a chain with a ring which had a red feather tied to it. Even though it had been eleven years already, the feather still felt warm and soft upon touching, like it felt to have been brought few hours ago. She got up from her bed, opening the small box, holding the chain delicately. She touched the feather, which was still warm, still soft and made her calm somehow. She felt protected. She put it around her neck, hiding it underneath the hem of her shirt.

The soft knock on the window made her jump on her bed, startled. She turned around, to see a pretty silver owl, a letter clung onto its beak, her grey irises staring right at her. She was unable to comprehend the presence of an owl, in the middle of London streets. But her fear faded as she stepped towards the window, her eyes strained onto the letter which had a unique way of addressing the addressee.

_LYDIA SILVER, FIRST FLOOR BEDROOM, 56, MARGARET STREET_, _LONDON_


	2. 2 THE LETTER & DREAM

2\. **THE LETTER & DREAM**

_LYDIA SILVER, FIRST FLOOR BEDROOM, 56, MARGARET STREET_, _LONDON_

Who was Lydia Silver? The address was perfect except her name. She was Hemmings. Even the documents showed her name as Iris Hemmings, after the adoption because no one knew what her name was ...

What was her name before she was found? Was it Lydia? Lydia Silver? So many questions zoomed through her mind, unable to make a stop on the present situation. Finally, the owl let out a little hoot, she was brought back to the present and looked at it. "Are you hungry?" it let a slow nod, and she headed towards her closet, where she found a remaining piece of the bar which she wanted to finish carefully, in order to satisfy herself completely, but she let go of her selfishness and handed it to it. It nibbled quietly, when she unfolded the letter to read its contents,

_**HOGWARTS SCHOOL **_Of _**WITCHCRAFT**_ and _**WIZADRY**_

Headmaster: **ALBUS DUMBLEDORE** (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

_Dear Ms. Silver,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizadry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress._

She read the letter plenty of times to find herself in reality every time she finished. Witchcraft and Wizadry? She's a Witch? But, how do they even know her? Moreover, the names totally different. After what felt like hours, she looked at the owl who was resting its head on the window pane, snoring silently. The sky was dark and the house was silent, even though there was another presence except her. She could feel her thoughts bombarding at the door, faintly, 'What will she do?' 'She does have something unrealistic.' 'Maybe I should take her to a psychiatrist' It flooded through her mind like electromagnetic waves.

She took a deep breath, thinking slowly, even though the address is correct, accurate to her location, she can't possibly accept the letter. It's probably a prank, someone who owns an owl and had intense research to send it.

But somehow, she wished if it this would be true. She finally could belong somewhere.

Morgan was pacing down the hall, when she heard soft footsteps from the stairs. She turned her head to see Iris coming, with an envelope, which bore a unique H with some animals surrounding it.

"What's that?" she asked, curious of it more than anything. Was it a message from an institute, a workplace perhaps? She handed the letter quietly to her. She held the letter which felt like the old paper on contact. She read its contents carefully, her eyes widening in the process, the shock skyrocketing, her mind submerged in the storm of thoughts that came to her like a tsunami. "Are you a witch?" was finally all she could ask. She wanted to believe so much.

"I don't know. The names wrong. " she replied, her voice almost wavering.

"You didn't have a- "she stopped at mid-sentence, thinking if it would be wise to continue. She realized she had known her identity, so it wasn't a big deal, "You didn't have a name to begin with. We didn't know your name." she explained. Iris gave a slow nod, deciphering the path that this conversation was going.

"I'll owl them to give this at the proper address." She finally said. Morgan didn't expect that, "Owl? No Iris, is it you? I mean, are you Lydia?" she asked, careful not to blow up. "I don't know. I wish I was though."

She took back the envelope, headed upstairs. Morgan thought of asking dinner, but she was cut off by her quick reply, "I'm not hungry."

She slammed the door shut, waking up the owl in the process. It hooted lazily, stroking its feather with its beak. Iris plopped on her bed, wondering what to do. Is there really a school for witches and wizards? If so, then why it so uncommon. Is it a bad thing? So many thought coursed through her mind and she drifted off to sleep sub consciously.

"_Honey, isn't she beautiful?" a woman's voice dominated her mind. "She's really pretty." A man replied. "How about Jane? Is it too common? Or Brittany?" "how about we make a name from our own?" "If we take 'ly' from 'Olly' and 'Dia' from 'Diana' it becomes- ""Lydia." Both voices chuckle. _

"_Don't you dare touch her!" A terrifying laugh echoed. _

Iris wake up, jolting, sweat trickling down her forehead. She heard voices, she got off from the bed to see through the window. All the houses were pitch black, the road had dim light from the street lights. Everyone was asleep.

Was she hallucinating? She could always hear the thoughts. And that was a weird thought, it was ever a thought to begin with.

She felt her stomach grumble, and headed downstairs silently. She was careful of the footsteps, the occasional creaking of the floor and opened the cupboard to find her cashew cookies. She held the box and silently made her way back to her room.

She carefully chewed her cookies replaying her dream or the thought she heard, again and again. The voices were related to Lydia, but she couldn't place her finger on the right spot. Who were they and how was Lydia related to her? Was she thinking too much? She suddenly remembered about her locket and pulled it out carefully to see the ring, shining brilliantly pale under the moonlight. She examined the ring closely and the feather brushed past it. Suddenly, the ring began shining, and the surroundings around her begin to change suddenly. Her room transformed into a hall with the bed into a couch. She heard the sudden cry of a baby, followed by hushes and convincing words 'now now'. 'We have a present for you Lydia!' she heard the same voice of her past dream. Finally, a woman and man holding a baby entered the room. The woman had dark brown locks which limited till her shoulders, her apron complimenting the dress she wore. The man beside her had dirty blonde hair and smiled innocently at the baby. "Mama has a present for you!" he mimicked the excited voice of a child and the baby gurgled happily. He looked up, staring straight at Iris, who went rigid unable to move from her place.

He had beautiful eyes.

_Pure brown. _


End file.
